


Ashes of Eden

by malatropism



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Blow Jobs, Chuck is a Bad Father, Eventual Smut, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malatropism/pseuds/malatropism
Summary: Sam Winchester would do anything his brother asked of him, even if it meant marrying a king he’d never met. Lucifer Milton would do anything to keep his cards close to his chest. Brought together by a blood-bound prophecy, they don’t want to get too close to each other. After all, they are in love with other people.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Dean Winchester, Lucifer/Ruby (Supernatural), Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. How To Know A Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! This is my first fic on AO3. This has been edited from the original version posted on FF.net. 
> 
> TW: This story contains descriptions of abuse, cheating, and murder. If these topics are sensitive for you, please use your own discretion as to whether or not you’d like to continue.

The strange loops in the leather reins of his borrowed mount burned blisters into Sam’s hands the longer he held them. His long-fingered grip was white-knuckled against the boiled brown of the Edenic saddle. The Winchester prince narrowed his serious green eyes and concentrated on the horse’s neck. The mighty beast’s fur was a shining black, and Sam did very little by way of guiding the animal at all. The horse only knew to place its hooves in the very hoofprints of the horse in front of it. 

Sam hated being treated like he was incompetent. 

The rider astride the horse leading Sam’s was _still_ short mounted on his animal. A purple sash whipped in the wind of their movement, covering the dull boiled wool of the short rider’s black uniform. Gabriel threw a sly hazel glance over his shoulder at Sam. “You sure you’re okay, Winchester?” 

Gabriel’s horse continued its straight path despite the distractedness of its rider. A bruise on Sam’s hip ached dully to remind him of its existence. “I’m alright!” Sam felt hot red color flush into his cheeks. 

He could’ve sworn that Gabriel winked at him before turning his focus back to the road in front of them. They’d ridden steadily for three days; Sam was no stranger to a saddle, but it felt a little excessive. After the first day, the party crossed the Terran-Edenic border. Terra was lush and green, but almost the second they crossed the border, Sam could feel the green leaching from the landscape. By noon the second day, the vegetation around the party had taken on a yellow-grey color. 

The Milton Seraphim checked on Sam every hour. As they rode, the gesture was as simple as glancing over his shoulder and getting Sam to talk. When they broke for camp, Gabriel would sit on his heels in front of Sam and rub aloe ointment into his blistering palms. 

If Gabriel caught him alone, Sam would have his back against the rough bark of an angry Edenic tree, holding Gabriel’s thighs, unable to breathe through the savage, hungry kisses the short Milton dealt. 

The memory blazed a new life to the fire in his cheeks. Sam blushed and stared at the neck of his horse. It was Gabriel’s hot breath that Sam fantasized about, wet against his neck. Shaking his head in a failed attempt to calm the electricity that stiffened in his pants, Sam clenched his teeth. He knew better than to say anything about that. 

Sam had known this journey was coming, not for too long, but Dean did ask his opinion once or twice. Despite knowing that a treaty had been signed, Sam was numb to his departure until it arrived. When Dean hugged him for five entire minutes, every little piece of Sam’s life in the Terran castle begged him to cry for his own homesickness. Sam promised his brother that he would write often. Dean didn’t believe him. Gabriel found that exchange amusing. Sam punched him for it later. 

Bored by the sickly yellow landscape and the dingy grey sky, Sam let his mind wander to his betrothed. Even thinking that word filled Sam with unease. He wasn’t scared, no, more… uncomfortable. He had no idea who the Milton King was. Battle records and carefully scribed watch reports painted him as a brave man, but Lucifer Milton left no trace of his personality anywhere.

Sam’s fingertips spent long nights scouring the written accounts of Lucifer Milton’s exploits, searching for a connection he never found. Candle after candle burned to a nub built on Sam’s anxiety and ate away at his chest.

Lucifer Milton, second son of Charles Milton and Jacqueline Avereaux-Milton, king of Eden, was a stranger to Sam. He hadn’t seen so much as a portrait of the man. Though it felt shallow, a part of Sam’s conscience worried that he wouldn’t find the Milton King attractive at all. 

Lost in his daydreaming, Sam missed an entire hovel-village. He was only pulled back to reality by his horse lurching to a stop. One of Sam’s blisters popped in his panic to grab the reins. Blood leaked out of the injured skin, but Sam tried to ignore it. 

The guards and servants that milled about the castle yard donned uniforms of grey, beige, and dingy white, all proudly decorated with a pronounced purple sash. Sam’s feet welcomed solid ground. A young stable boy took the reins of the horse from Sam and guided the beast towards a water trough. 

Sam smoothed the wrinkles out of his crimson silk shirt. The fabric kissed his skin, but when Gabriel touched Sam’s elbow, the Winchester’s cheeks suddenly matched his shirt. 

The short Milton Seraphim chuckled. “He’s going to think you’re all shy or something.” Gabriel teased. 

“Shut up!” Sam stammered, closing his bleeding hand into a fist to collect the blood. He felt out of place; taller than everyone he could see and wearing a bright red beacon. 

“Whatever, Samsquatch. This way.” Gabriel guided him through the ornate stone archway that opened into the bailey garden, and then through a rich oaken door. Sam lost track of the twists and turns that Gabriel led him through in the hallways, but he suspected that he’d learn the castle layout soon enough. 

The door to every room was stained a red-hued cherry color. Gabriel stopped in front of a door and cocked his head to listen. Sam was hyper aware that they were alone in the hallway. More blood pooled in his hand, and Sam removed his arm from Gabriel’s easy grip to catch the few droplets that started to leak. 

The Seraphim didn’t seem to notice and knocked softly before twisting the handle open, not even waiting for an answer. Gabriel ushered Sam inside with a gentle tug on his shirtsleeve. 

A tall blonde man sat with his back to the door, elbow rested on the surface of the black desk. The blonde eagerly swept the smattering of papers into a neat pile at the corner of the surface. The muscles in his back were clearly defined by his well-fitting shirt. The only thing left to Sam’s imagination was whether or not the golden tan on the blonde’s body went below the fabric of his shirt.

Bright, brilliant icy blue eyes lit up with laughter as the blonde turned and caught sight of Gabriel. The two men crushed each other in a bear hug, laughing. “Safe travels, huh?” The blonde’s voice was reminiscent of lavender tea, complete with one too many dribbles of honey. 

“I caused all the trouble I could.” Gabriel declared. “Unfortunately, I’m still here.” Gabriel tipped his head to smirk at the much taller blonde and pulled out of their rather brotherly hug.

Brotherly hug. Sam’s breath caught in his throat and he clenched his bleeding fist, much to the dismay of his popped blister. The curve of their noses, the easy match of their smiles… they were brothers. Sam felt the sudden craving for a strong glass of brandy. 

“Tragic.” The blonde chuckled. His icy blue eyes settled on Sam, huddled awkwardly and failing at his best impression of a stone wall. “You look los—are you bleeding?” 

Sam shrugged and cradled his hands to his chest. “I’m alright, thanks.” His blood, dripping from his fist into his cupped hand, betrayed him. 

“Hey, let me see.” The lavender-tea voice dropped into a low, comfortable tone. Sam resisted the blonde’s gentle grip.

Icy blue eyes locked Sam’s gaze and trapped the air in his lungs. The stiffness in Sam’s arm melted away. He kept his hand cupped below his fist while the blonde uncurled Sam’s fingers to examine his palm. Sam didn’t notice that the three other blisters in his hand had also popped. All of the welts oozed blood lazily. 

“You rode here yourself, huh?” The blonde murmured, withdrawing from Sam long enough to slip his shirt over his head. He quickly folded it into a rectangle and wound the makeshift bandage around Sam’s hand. 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. The golden tan did spill beneath the blonde’s hemline. His abs were traced softly on his stomach, pectorals warmly forcing Sam to draw in a sharp breath. A black tattoo of an interlocking star peeked over the ridge of his shoulder. 

“Here, let me clean that one, too.” The blonde guides Sam’s other wrist to towel the blood away with his shirt. “I’m Lucifer, by the way.”

Sam looked at his hand, blushing. “I’m Sam. Winchester.” 

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Luci, please keep your clothes on for just 24 more hours. Please!” 

“If you’d noticed the blood, dear brother, I wouldn’t have had occasion to take my shirt off.” Lucifer quipped, then turned his focus back to Sam’s hand. He tied the makeshift bandage off with an expert knot, like a byproduct of his long military career. 

“You’re always looking for excuses to strip.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

Sam’s tongue was paralyzed. Panicking began to look like a great option. Lucifer’s finger on his chin commanded Sam’s attention. “I’ll have a salve sent for this later, yeah?” 

“Th-thanks.” Sam stammered. “I’m really alright, though.” 

Lucifer smiled, a sly grin with an edge of challenge, and raised Sam’s uninjured fingers to his lips and fluttered a soft, empty kiss to his fingertips. “Until tomorrow, I guess.” 

Gabriel crossed the room too quickly to take Sam’s elbow and lead him out of the room. The door barely clicked shut before Sam shoved Gabriel away with his uninjured hand. “You’re his brother?” Sam hissed, face burning. 

Token smirk spreading across his face, Gabriel carded his fingers through his wily brunette hair. “What’s it matter to you?”

Sam crossed his arms, wincing when his improvised bandage scraped across his abused palm. “I can’t believe this.” He laughed incredulously, the sound hollow in his own ears. “You know I'm marrying your brother, right? Or did that little detail slip your mind when we fucked?”

Gabriel winked. “All the times, baby. You make me lose my mind.”

Sam’s unamused glare was his only answer. 

“Listen, Sam, you can’t walk around this place at any time of day without running into, like…” Gabriel counted out three fingers, “...so many of Lucifer’s former flings.” He waved his counting hands to dismiss the outlandish notion that his brother got laid more than he did. “You get to have your own fun, doll. With me. And Luci doesn’t care.” 

“You don’t fuck your fiancé’s brother.” Sam shook his head and pursed his lips. Dean would call this a bitch face. “It’s in bad taste.”

“You taste great.” Gabriel snickered. “Luci really won’t care.”

“Maybe I care. Images of propriety and all.” Sam felt like a petty bitch and decided to embrace it. 

Gabriel snorted before he could stop his laughter. “You? Propriety? You suck cock way too well for that.” Shaking his head as if he found himself hilarious, Gabriel offered the Winchester prince his arm. “Whatever, baby. Your room for the night is this way.”

“We’re so not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Sam growled, but took the Seraphim’s elbow regardless. 

~*~

Lucifer rubbed his bare shoulders as the door clicked shut, rolling Sam’s nervousness over in his mind. He liked to think that he gave off an air of being a nice person, but Gabriel was always one to play up how scary Lucifer could be. 

He really loved his little brother, but Gabriel could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. 

Frowning slightly, Lucifer glanced at the papers he’d piled at the corner of the desk. Road condition reports, harvest projections, bandit camp raid summaries… Lucifer wanted to drive his dip pen right into his eye socket. Rubbing his temples, he slung his prized leather jacket over his bare torso. He’d deal with that business later. Right now, he needed to get laid, or otherwise equally distracted. 

His darling girlfriend worked in the room next to his office. Lucifer shut the door at the volume of a normal human with nothing to hide, then tapped his nail on the doorknob three times. He all but pranced down the hall, taking the back way to his room. 

She would know to meet him in their usual hallway. Growing up in this palace with, well, Charles for a father, Lucifer knew exactly where every hiding place and quiet hallway was. 

He reclined against a doorframe in a dim back corridor, content to feel like a pot of ink trickling down a page. 

“Fancy finding you here.” A soft, catlike voice that sent blood rushing to Lucifer’s crotch floated sweetly to his ears. 

Lucifer turned his head and flashed his girlfriend a dazzling smile. “You always know where to find me, sweetheart.”

Ruby’s auburn hair was tossed artfully over one shoulder. A faint smudge of black ink dusted her cheek where she rested her head on her writing hand. She wore a white dress with a glimmering white ribbon lacing the bodice up the front. Lucifer bit his lip and let himself drink in the sight of her body. They’d been involved for about a year, and he still loved to look at her. “I just met the Winchester prince.”

Short, delicate fingers slipped between the unbuttoned panels of Lucifer’s jacket, sending lightning bolts across his skin. “What did you think of him?” Her pink tongue was a delicious contrast to her red-painted lips. Lucifer’s uncooperative and prominent erection begged to have those lips around it. 

“We’ll see.” He cupped his hand against her cheek. A year of sex and mostly-silent company, and he still wouldn’t kiss her. Kissing was for being in love, or for show, and Lucifer hadn’t kissed a person in a very long time. “He’s nervous.”

The last person he kissed shattered his heart. 

Ruby’s fingers dipped into the hem of Lucifer’s trousers. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, fully aware of how much the king was straining to keep his hands (mostly) to himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.” The coy smile that played onto Lucifer’s lips was a mask he wore well. “Can I fuck you against this wall?”

Ruby giggled, nibbling at her lip. “Don’t threaten a girl with a good time.”

Lucifer had her back flattened against the wood paneling before he registered moving. One knee between her thighs, he rubbed his thumb and index finger across the two pulse-points in her neck, the choking gesture making her shiver. “It’s not a threat.”

“I couldn’t help but notice while I was transcribing the contract from the Winchester King that it was written in Ancient Enochian.” The warm chocolate brown of her eyes bored into Lucifer’s soul. 

“Mhm.” Lucifer nodded, touching his nose to her earlobe. “You should’ve made three copies.”

“Only you and Master Crowley know Ancient Enochian.” Ruby’s fingers turned Lucifer’s belt buckle loose, then pulled his belt out of his pants. 

“Dean Winchester’s insistence.” Lucifer nibbled softly at her earlobe, fingers teasing the ribbon holding her dress on. “Fuck, baby, I want you.”

Ruby’s sure grip on his cock through his underwear was a welcome distraction, but she kept pressing the issue. “Since when does King Lucifer Milton take orders from anyone?” She crooned. 

An unwelcome image of Dean Winchester flashed into his mind, and Lucifer banished it with a decided pull on the ribbon in Ruby’s dress to loosen the garment. “Winchester picked the language, I wrote the terms. That bastard’s insistence on secrecy is how I got exactly what I wanted.” 

“So why the Winchester bitch?” Ruby noticed Lucifer’s brief loss of focus, and ground her hips against Lucifer’s begging cock to bring him back to her. 

Lucifer gasped and bit the inside of his cheek to keep his composure. Ruby wasn’t allowed to catch him off guard like that. “Insurance, honey. Winchesters will do stupid things in the name of family.” 

Ruby gasped as Lucifer’s fingers slipped beneath the loosened fabric of her bodice and rolled a sensitive nipple between the rough pads. “Luci!” She whimpered. 

“Not too loud, sweetheart.” Lucifer punctuated his warning with a chaste kiss to her forehead. 

She squirmed and jerked her hand towards Lucifer’s stomach. He hissed at the sudden sensation. “What are you gonna do with him?” Ruby asked. 

“We’ll see how good he is tomorrow.” Lucifer pinched her nipple, eliciting a broken cry from her sweet red lips. 

“Oh god!” Ruby whined as Lucifer’s free hand pulled the skirt on her dress up to rub the inside of her thigh. 

“Ah, ah.” Lucifer dug his nails softly into the delicate skin of her inner thigh. “You know how I feel about that.”

Ruby squirmed between Lucifer’s body and the wall. “I’m sorry!” 

Tracing his finger across the slickness of her entrance, Lucifer clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re not sorry, you’re such a fucking slut for me.”

Ruby moaned softly as Lucifer rubbed her wetness lightly across her clit. “I’ll make it up to you.” She panted. 

“Then stop talking about my fiancé.” Lucifer growled, nipping at her collarbone. 

The only name, derogatory or otherwise, that Ruby said after that was his, and Lucifer liked it better that way. 

~*~

Gabriel managed to make holding a door look condescending. Sam really had to give it to him; Gabriel was a fantastic trickster. 

“I’m really just being polite.” Gabriel grinned. “I won’t fall into bed with you unless you ask for it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked into the room. It was small, sparsely decorated. The window was draped with thin gossamer curtains, gleaming white in the dying daylight. On the wall opposite the cherry-wood four-poster bed, a dark fireplace waited for a happy hearth to bring warmth to the room. The nightstand closest to the door had a hasty pocket knife carving on the top. 

He couldn’t help but inch closer to the nightstand and run his fingertips across the carved initials in the wood. 

D.W. & N.A. 

“Teenagers in love are something else.” Gabriel shut the door and made Sam jump. 

Pulling his hand back to his chest, Sam glanced at the Seraphim. “Who’s are those?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Not my story to tell. Didn’t work out for them, though, so you may not even want to hear it.”

Sam sighed and looked at the bed. The blankets reminded him of Dean’s bed, a deep emerald green. They felt like silk. Same could vaguely remember being a small child, with Dean holding him for comfort during a thunderstorm. He missed his brother already. 

The appearance of a third person in the room went entirely unnoticed by Sam until he heard kindling sticks being snapped. Alarmed, Sam’s whipped his gaze to the hearth. 

A young servant, barely sixteen, knelt on the stone, arranging kindling for a fire. Gabriel was unbothered by the boy’s presence. 

The boy sparked a fire to life. He stood, roughly as tall as Gabriel, Orient, with big brown eyes. 

Sam smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

The boy (he was very much a boy) bowed stiffly. “I’m Kevin.” Kevin avoided eye contact with Sam. 

“You don’t shake hands?” Sam frowned slightly. 

Kevin shook his head. “No, sir, not for noblemen.” Scared brown eyes pleaded for Sam to stop confusing him. 

The Winchester prince chuckled. “We’re both just people. Here,” Sam offered Kevin his hand again, “like we just met in the street.”

Kevin side eyed Gabriel as he took Sam’s hand. The poor kid had a dead fish handshake, but Sam could work with that. The best place to build an array of trusted friends was in the service network of any house. 

Kevin withdrew his hand like Sam scalded him. “Does your High—“

Sam held up a hand to cut him off. “Please. Just Sam.”

Kevin refused to relax. “Mr. Sam, would you like anything? Something to eat or drink?”

Sam glanced at Gabriel, then the window. “A glass of water, please.”

Kevin scurried out of the room like a terrified mouse. Gabriel crossed his arms, giggling. “You are one crazy royal, Sam.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m a human, just like he is.”

Gabriel stepped into Sam’s bubble and touched his chin, which would’ve been a much more effective measure if Gabriel had been a foot taller. “But you’re not, baby. You’re a very big deal here, and not even because you’re tall.” He laughed at his own joke. “You’re gonna marry my big brother, and Luci wants to keep you very close.” 

Sam groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m not sure how I feel about him.” Sam tugged on Gabriel’s elbow until the Seraphim’s fingers caught on Sam’s chest. “I read the treaty summary and still can’t figure out why Eden benefitted from that thing at all.”

Gabriel shrugged and stood up on his tip-toes to kiss the tip of Sam’s nose. “Maybe you should read the whole thing, then.”

“It’s in another language.” Sam blurted out, hand sliding down to Gabriel’s waist and pulling him closer. 

“That sounds like a personal problem.” Gabriel commented, pressing a controlled kiss to Sam’s lips. 

Before Sam could decide whether or not to control himself, Gabriel retreated to the door and pushed it open. Kevin entered the room carrying a dull silver tray with a glass of water and two halves of a cold sandwich featured on it. 

Sam immediately offered half the sandwich to Kevin. He and Dean would always do that, share food meant for one. Kevin eyes the sandwich like it was a trap. “That’s yours, sir.”

“Sam.” The Winchester prince reminded, offering the sandwich again. “I can share, I promise.”

Kevin shook his head. “I’m alright, sir.” 

Sighing in defeat, Sam laid the sandwich on the tray and took a refreshing drink of the water. He probably should’ve checked it for drugs first, but what did he care? “Can I ask you a question?” Sam pointedly ignored Gabriel. 

“Of course, sir.” Kevin stood up straighter. The boy was a bundle of nerves with purple clothes on. “Anything.”

The stars shining weakly through the glass of the window demanded Sam’s focus. “Does Lucifer have a favorite color?”

Kevin frowned, shuffling on his feet. “I… am not sure. I can go ask.”

“Please? I’d love to know.” Sam smiled at Kevin. 

The servant scampered out of the room. 

“You really sent him off to my brother? I’m literally right here.” Gabriel protested. 

Sam sighed, knowing he was weak willed. “But now we’re alone.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Like, we need-to-talk kind of alone?” He caressed his fingers through his hair. 

Sam shook his head. “Please-don’t-talk kind of alone.”

“Oh.” Gabriel’s cheeks pinkened. “You’re needy.”

“Shut up.” Sam mumbled. 

~*~

Lucifer ran his fingers through his hair, trying in vain to tame the sex-mess Ruby made out of it when she pulled. He took that as a testament to his ability, of course. 

“Your belt is undone.” The King jumped with a start at the voice of his Court Wizard. 

Fergus Crowley was the Court Wizard for Lucifer’s father, King Charles, since before Lucifer’s birth. The Court Wizard was short, plump as if well-fed, and greying with age.

Lucifer fumbled to pull the leather tightly around his waist and tuck it into the buckle. “You scared me.” 

“If I wasn’t looking out for you, son, I swear you’d lose your own head.” Crowley laid two leather-bound books on the table. 

Lucifer chuckled and pulled out a chair across the table from where Crowley’s books rested. This table held many memories of his childhood, good ones of studying with his brothers (and Anna, who was an honorary brother) and Dean Winchester, hazy ones of Crowley taking care of him when he was sick, and bad ones of his father. “You worry too much, old man.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I don’t imagine you came up here to gloat about your latest rendezvous.” He opened one of the books, which turned out to not be a book at all; the pages were hollowed and three neatly bound scrolls were hidden inside. “This is about the Winchester Prince.”

“You always read me so well.” Lucifer nibbled on the inside of his cheek. 

“That, and these little treaties that came across my desk this morning. Final copies.” Crowley gestured. “What do you think of him?”

Lucifer shrugged. “He seems nervous. Rode his own horse, has blisters to hell and wasn’t going to say anything about his hands bleeding until I noticed.” 

Crowley nodded. “So that’s where your shirt went.” 

Lucifer’s face flushed and he buttoned his leather coat over his bare chest. “For once, yes, it went exactly where I said.”

Crowley opened one of the scrolls. “Have you gotten a briefing from Gabriel about the Terran Court?” 

Lucifer shook his head, glancing around to the bookshelves as if they were being spied on. “Not yet. I was hoping for a letter from Dean Winchester, but I don’t think I’m going to get one of those either.” 

Crowley touched Lucifer’s folded hands. “Michael and Castiel are arriving this evening. They could have the good news you’re wanting.”

The king fought his muscles, but frowned despite himself. “I just… you know…”

Crowley nodded. “It’s been seven years, son.”

“And almost fifteen since my mother.” Lucifer mumbled. “She loved him, too.” 

A pained expression painted Crowley’s face. “She wanted you to be happy. You still have a chance for that, you know.”

Lucifer shook his head. “I couldn’t be happy with the person I wanted, or the person I was supposed to love. I do what I have to for Eden now.” 

The thudding cascade of books from behind a bookcase snapped both men’s attention to a stumbling, attempting-not-to-swear young servant: Kevin. Lucifer hand-picked him for Sam’s quarters. Kevin was quiet and trustworthy. 

“S-sorry to disturb, your Majesty.” Kevin bowed awkwardly. 

Lucifer raised his hand and waved it dismissively. “Everything alright, Kevin?”

“Erm, the Winchester Prince has a question.” Kevin stammered. 

Crowley smirked in Lucifer’s general direction. The king nodded at Kevin, pointedly ignoring Crowley’s mischievous taunt. “And what might that be?”

Kevin blushed. “Mr. Winchester wishes to inquire…” He wrung his hands together, “...about your favorite color.”

Lucifer felt guilty for the laughter he couldn’t catch in time to stop. He bit down lightly on the corner of his mouth to try to get himself in check. Of everything in the entire world to ask, Samuel Winchester wanted to know his _favorite color_?! It was equal parts ridiculous and endearing. 

Lucifer closed his eyes and caught his breath. He knew whose face he pictures so clearly, eyes shimmering—“Green.” Lucifer murmured. “Like the forest.” He opened his eyes and tried to control the flush in his cheeks. He did about as well as with his laughter. 

Kevin bowed clumsily, one knee giving out. He caught himself on a bookshelf. “Thank you, sire. I’ll return to Mr. Winchester right away.” 

Lucifer smiled as Kevin retreated, but when he turned his attention back to Crowley, he felt the need to furrow his brow and cover his mouth with his hand. “What’s that look for?”

The Court Wizard chuckled. “Samuel Winchester’s eyes are green.”

Samuel Winchester hadn’t been the one Lucifer pictured. “Really? I didn’t notice.”

~*~

“Green.” Sam whispered. “Like the forest.” 

He could still taste Gabriel’s kiss on his lips, but refused to let the Seraphim sleep with him. It felt like poor taste, especially on the night before his wedding. 

Sam felt something familiar about the bedsheets; they reminded him of Dean for some inexplicable reason. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, kicking them into a pocket around his feet. The sheets were cold, as if this bed was meant to be shared. 

Sam thought about inviting Gabriel in again. He decided against it.


	2. Blood-Bound and Heartsick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Sam get married, but it all feels fake. Sam meets someone mysterious from Lucifer’s past and has no idea what to make of information given to him about the Milton King. Will Lucifer ever truly get over the first love that shattered his heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You stuck with me through that first part! I appreciate it :)
> 
> CW: mentions of sexual activity among teenagers. Mentions of suspicious deaths. Adultery, even if the marriage is a wee bit of a sham. Also, Gabriel’s entire personality should be its own content warning.

Sam felt like his wedding day should’ve felt more significant, but he didn’t feel any different upon waking. The fire in the hearth crackled with a new life; Kevin must have stoked it while Sam was asleep. The morning light spiking through the window seemed tinged with grey, a foreboding sign in Sam’s mind. 

“Mr. Sam!” The voice was Kevin’s, coming from the door. “You’re awake.” 

Sam sat up and stretched the muscles in his back. “Morning.” He mumbled. 

Kevin presented him with black trousers, a white silk shirt, and a green square to tuck into his pocket. Sam flushed when he realized the clothes fit him perfectly. 

Kevin stood back and nodded at Sam’s outfit. “You look sharp, sir.”

Sam smiled and threaded his fingers into his pockets. “Thanks. I’m a little nervous.” 

“His Majesty is many things,” Kevin crossed his arms, “but cruel is not one of them.” 

Sam quirked up a small smile. He could fake emotions until the wedding was over… or so he hoped. 

~*~

“Cassy, tie his tie before he fucks it up.” Lucifer’s older brother’s bossiness was always brought out by events like this. 

The youngest brother, Castiel Avereaux, stood from the couch where he and Gabriel watched the king ready himself, and started towards the mirror. 

Making a face, Lucifer batted his hand away. “I’ve been handling myself just fine. I can tie it.” 

“Not like that!” Castiel laughed, pulling the loops from Lucifer’s fingers and weaving an intricate knot, not unlike a feather. The fabric gleamed amethyst in the morning light. 

“Oh.” A small wave of sadness crashed against Lucifer’s cheek, the tear tracing solemn and silent. “Mom should be here.”

A cold silence fell over the brothers. “So should Raphael and Anna.” Gabriel grumbled. “I can’t believe they haven’t answered any of your letters.”

Lucifer shrugged. “I haven’t heard from either of them since Father.” He didn’t know if he’d even want to see them, anyway. 

Michael’s piercing grey-blue eyes caught Lucifer’s gaze. The apology in them was evident. It’s not your fault, Lucifer thought. 

Lucifer wished that Michael was their father’s son, wished it with all his body, his blood, and his heart. It was Michael’s dishonor that pushed the throne onto Lucifer’s shoulders, and torn him away from the first person he ever truly loved. 

One broken heart shouldn’t have meant much, but Lucifer compared every lover after to him. Not even his former fianceé had as much claim to his heart as that first love. Ruby didn’t have it, either. Sam Winchester certainly wouldn’t get it. 

Castiel put his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”

The blonde king turned to look his little brother in his brilliant blue eyes, eyes they shared with their late mother. “I hope so.”

~*~

The ceremony itself was a blur, smudged across Sam’s memory. He was hyper aware of his sweaty palms when Lucifer took his hands. The vows the priest made him repeat left his brain as soon as the words left his mouth. 

A serious man with dark brown hair and stormy grey eyes presented Lucifer with the rings. The blonde put one in Sam’s palm, and held out the Winchester’s left hand to slide the other onto his ring finger. 

Sam slid the silver circlet onto Lucifer’s left ring finger. When the ring settled snugly against his knuckle, the space between them seemed to crackle with an unseen energy. 

Lucifer’s eyes darkened. Sam did his best to keep a straight face. 

~*~

_Green. Like the forest._

Like Sam Winchester’s eyes. 

Exchanging the Milton bands invited the Grace in Lucifer’s blood to flit between them, humming in the air. The only thing left to complete the ceremony was to kiss Sam Winchester. 

Lucifer really, really didn’t want to do that. 

He settled for a quick, chaste kiss. A spark bit his lips, and he flinched away. Sam flinched at the same time. They studied each other, trying to determine what the hell that was. 

Lucifer knew exactly what it was, and the blood-bond pulled at his very soul. It made him angry, almost. Of all the Winchester children to choose, why did it have to be Sam? Why couldn’t it have been Dean? 

The blonde did his best to control the expression on his face. He couldn’t blame Sam. He couldn’t blame Michael. He could only blame the Black Mages… and his father. 

The priest dismissed them from the altar. Lucifer didn’t realize he was still holding Sam’s hands until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Releasing his new husband, Lucifer turned around, only to be crushed in a hug by his brother, Gabriel. 

“Gabe! You’re squishing me!” Lucifer wheezed, clapping his little brother on the back. 

Gabriel laughed and let go. “Look at you, kissing like you’ve never touched another person in your life.”

Lucifer felt hot blood rush to his cheeks. “Shut up!” He leaned closer to Gabriel to whisper in his ear. “The Grace made a little lightning. That bitch hurt!” He hissed. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. But you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.” He winked slyly. 

“Gabriel, your crassness knows no bounds.” Castiel swooped in to save Lucifer from his disaster of a younger brother. The brunette pulled on Gabriel’s forearm. 

Lucifer turned to Sam, whose existence he just remembered, and offered him his hand. “I apologize for Gabriel’s… well, personality, really.” He laughed at his own joke. “This is my brother, Castiel. He’s the Commander of the North Watch and the General of the Edenic army.” 

Sam’s cheeks were pink. He held out his hand to shake Castiel’s. “I’m Sam. It’s a pleasure.” 

Castiel attempted a smile, but failed to break his stone expression. He shook Sam’s hand with a solemn nod. “Likewise.” He stepped on Gabriel’s foot before another innuendo could be made. 

Lucifer threaded his fingers into Sam’s. This party needed a nice show, so that he could get on with his life. “Have you seen Michael?” He directed his question at Castiel, pointedly ignoring Gabriel. 

“Michael insisted on supervising the food tastings. Bad memories and all.” Castiel pointed. “He should be over there.” 

Lucifer flashed a dazzling smile. This game, he could play.

~*~

Sam was thoroughly embarrassed by Gabriel’s dirty jokes, knowing full well that the Seraphim knew Sam’s exact skill in the bedroom. 

Lucifer’s sure hand pulled Sam towards the serious man who’d given them the rings. The brunette admired Lucifer’s easy confidence in the crowd, smiling at Edenic nobles with a disarming charm. 

“Lucifer.” The serious man managed a small smile, glancing once more over the festive spread before he stepped away. 

The blonde king released Sam’s hand to grip the short, steely-eyed man in a hug. “You can relax, Mikey. The security couldn’t get any better.” 

The serious man pulled out of the hug and turned to Sam. “Michael Avereaux.” He offered his hand. “I don’t believe that we’ve met.”

“Sam.” He hoped that Michael was impressed with his firm, yet gentle handshake. “Pleased to meet you.” 

The man nodded and withdrew his hand. “I have faith in the good you will do here, Sam.”

The entire exchange made goosebumps crawl up Sam’s arms. Something about Michael was unnerving. 

Lucifer leaned close to Sam’s ear. “Do me a favor and stay sober. I have to go placate some noblemen. By all means, make friends and don’t drink.” He whispered, squeezing Sam’s shoulder before spiriting himself into the crowd. 

The Winchester looked around the ballroom, unsure of where to fit himself into the festivities. He finally decided to pick up a cup of a sweet, fruity tea. Sam settled himself at a small round table and observed the people around him. 

The chair next to him scraped across the floor and made Sam jump. A beautiful woman in a flowing blue dress settled into it. “You must be Dean Winchester.” Her voice was chittery, like a bird. “Lucifer never quite got over you, sugar.”

“Erm, actually, I’m Sam.” He flushed and tapped his fingers on the table. “Dean is my older brother.”

The woman held out her hand, and, out of politeness, Sam kissed her knuckles briefly. “It’s a pity a sexy catch like Lucifer has to settle for the love of his life’s baby brother, isn’t it?”

Sam crossed his ankles in lieu of coming up with a retort. “Court politics aren’t always aligned with personal desires.” God knows I wouldn’t have picked Lucifer. 

“If we all followed our _personal desires,_ Sam, the world would be a terrifying place.” Her ruby red lips dropped with the venom in her voice. “You may have married him, sweetie, but Lucifer Milton does what he damn well wants.” 

She stood and walked away in a wave of blue chiffon and sweeping red hair before he could reply. A hand on Sam’s shoulder jerked his attention to Gabriel standing behind him. “She’s full of shit.” The shorter Milton growled. 

Sam gestured to her now-empty chair. “Sit.” 

“Michael has already seen her, so she’ll be gone soon enough.” Gabriel accepted Sam’s invitation. “That’s Abaddon Mimeux. She’s from our mother’s home country. Lucifer was supposed to marry her until she committed an act of treason.” In his hand, the Seraphim held a flute of champagne. 

“She seems like a joy to be around.” Sam muttered sarcastically. “She mistook me for my brother, then said that Lucifer was ‘settling’ for the ‘love of his life’s baby brother.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. 

Gabriel shrugged. “Lucifer and Dean were the best of friends when we were kids. When Michael was dishonored, Lucifer had to cut the friendship off in the best interests of Eden. It’s hard to lose a friend like that.” He drank half of his glass.

Sam frowned. “There’s a huge difference between ‘best friends’ and ‘love of each other’s lives.’” He pointed out. 

“Abaddon was jealous of the time Lucifer devoted to Dean is all.” Gabriel’s face was flushed, Sam noticed. 

“How much have you had to drink?” He snatched the flute from Gabriel. 

Gabriel whined in protest. “I can handle a whole quart of liquor by myself. ‘M doing just fine.”

He placed the glass on the table. “Your face is so red.” Sam chuckled. 

“Like yours earlier!” Gabriel giggled. “You gotta fuck Luci tonight!” The Seraphim’s sing-songy voice invited the color to Sam’s cheeks again.

“Gabriel!” Sam hissed. He swatted the shorter man’s knee. 

Gabriel’s laughter remained undampened. “It’s gonna be great!” Tears gathered in the corner of his hazel eyes. “You think the Grace was intense at the ceremony, but wait until you get him in bed.” 

“The what?” Sam crossed his ankles to quell his discomfort. 

Gabriel put a finger to Sam’s lips, but missed and pressed the digit into one flushed cheek. “Shhhh. It’s a secret.” 

“Gabe…” Sam leaned in closer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Heaven, more like it.” Gabriel mumbled. “I’m gonna be sick.” He announced, then stumbled away, presumably to a powder room to vomit. 

~*~

Lucifer’s blood ran cold and his heart skipped in excitement when he came face to face with his favorite dangerous woman. “Tessa!” He grinned. “You made it.”

Her strong cheekbones radiated lethal power. She wore a dark navy pantsuit, as she should, because the Terran High Assassin was no ordinary woman. “Nicholas! You look dashing.” She shook his hand. 

The hopeful glint in Lucifer’s eye betrayed his question long before he asked it. “Did he… you know…?” 

Tessa reached into her coat and pulled out an immaculate parchment envelope. “He would never let you down.” She handed him the letter. 

Lucifer quickly squirreled it into his jacket pocket. It took every ounce of his self control not to rip it open and read it right then. “Thank you so much, Tess.”

“It means the world to me that you smile like that.” Tessa kissed him on the cheek. 

Lucifer pulled her into a hug. “I’m really glad you made it.”

“Miss my best friend’s wedding? Not for the world, even if it’s just a formality.” She squeezed him tightly, and for a moment, Lucifer was 23 again, silently crying in her arms and listening to her console him. 

He finally pulled away from her. “There’s a letter I left with Gabriel. If you could, uh, you know… make sure Dean gets it.” 

Tessa nodded. “He gets just as happy as you do, you know.” She tucked a stray lock of his hair back into place. “If life was a little different.” She sighed. 

“Lucifer.” Castiel’s voice behind him made the king turn away from Tessa. “May I have a moment?” 

Lucifer bit his lip and nodded. “It was good to see you, Tess. Safe travels.” 

“Congratulations, Nicky. I’ll write for you soon.” Tessa melted into the crowd, and Lucifer turned to his younger brother. 

“Is everything okay?” He wrung his hands together. All he wanted in the entire world right now was to sneak away and read Dean’s letters. 

Castiel cast suspicious looks around the room. “Abaddon slipped in with the guests. Michael is pursuing her, but she spoke with Samuel.” 

Lucifer’s face buzzed with anxiety. “Oh, fuck.”

“Indeed.” Castiel agreed. “I can’t be sure that she is still unaware of his impurities.”

Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck. “Gabriel was supposed to be watching him.” 

“Gabriel scared her off. He is currently relieving his alcohol consumptions into an undeserving shrub outside.” Castiel reported.

“We are so fucked.” Lucifer groaned. “I’ll go find Sam. Make sure Gabe doesn’t pass out in his own puke, yeah?”

Castiel nodded and marched off to find his brother, as if he’d just been ordered into battle and not voluntold for drunk-brother-babysitting detail. 

Lucifer had to give it to him, Castiel worshipped the ground his brothers walked on, and would do irrevocably stupid things for his family. The Winchester clan didn’t have a monopoly on suicidal piety, after all. 

~*~

Sam found the table too vulnerable to uncomfortable conversations with unnerving strangers, and the inside of the hall too stuffy for his liking. After inspecting a few doors, he found one that opened onto a balcony. 

The balcony was nestled between two stone walls, with a cobblestone railing separating the terrace from a tumble to certain death. The fencing in the middle was worn and crumbled away, inviting an accident to happen at any moment. Sam nestled against the wall to the right of the door, pushing on the fence to ensure that it would support his weight before he leaned on it. 

The hovel-village below bustled like a colony of ants. The people even looked like ants, specks of black against the sickly yellow-green of the grass. The sky was grey and hung heavy with a grey shroud of clouds. A small, muggy breeze occasionally pulled the stale air someplace else, but brought no relief. 

Tanned hands rested on the railing next to Sam’s. When he looked over, Lucifer was admiring the view. Sam shifted on his feet and opted to keep the silence. 

Neither of them spoke for a long while. Finally, Lucifer rested his elbows on the railing and sighed. “I heard about your run-in with my, ah, ex-fianceé.”

Sam shrugged. “She seemed like an absolute peach.” He wondered if he should ask Lucifer about Dean. 

“She’s a traitor and a murderer.” Lucifer spat, mostly at himself. He clenched his fist. 

Sam glanced at Lucifer’s face, noticing the crease in his brow and the tightness in his lips. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

Lucifer rolled his shoulders and shook his head to melt the anger off of his face. “Something like that.” He glanced at Sam, blue eyes running up and down the brunette’s body. “Are you?”

Sam looked down to the ground below. The drop was dizzying and fear-inducing. “I mean, I guess.” 

“You guess?” Lucifer frowned, his face more concern than displeasure. 

The brunette shrugged. “I’ve heard some weird stuff in the past couple of hours. I just got married, for fuck’s sake. I’m trying to process it all.” 

Lucifer nodded sympathetically. “I completely understand that.” They lapsed into silence once more. 

Sam popped his knuckles. He knew he should ask Lucifer some of the questions that nibbled at his brain, but something apprehensive stopped him. 

“Can I ask you a really, really awkward question?” Lucifer blurted out. Sam noticed that he tapped his fingers rapidly on the railing. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” Sam fidgeted with his feet. 

Lucifer took a deep breath, let it out, then took another. “You, uh, you ever fucked a guy before?” 

Sam burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You have so little faith in me.” He ruffled his long brunette hair. “Yeah, I have.”

Lucifer breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Do you know how goddamn awkward that would’ve been?” Sam could’ve sworn that he saw a hint of an amused smile on the blonde’s face. “Good story?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam shook his head. “Nah. I could make up a huge lie and say something really sappy about being in love and stuff, but it wasn’t like that. It was more of a… well, an accident that got carried away.” He blushed and thought about the ‘accident’ that was Gabriel Milton. Gabriel always got carried away. 

“It happens.” Lucifer agreed. “You regret it?” 

Sam adjusted his elbows to let the blood flow back to his fingers. “Surprisingly, no.” He didn’t want Lucifer to push him further on that. “What about you? You have a good first time story?” Sam deflected. 

Lucifer laughed and a small smile pulled a blush into his cheeks. “I jerked him off under a table while I was supposed to be studying. My brothers and Anna were there too, and didn’t notice. God, I must’ve been 15 or something.” 

Sam was worried that pushing further would open up a small wound that he was certain Lucifer was keeping close to his chest. 

“That fucker got me back later, too, at my sister’s wedding. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide the fact that you have jizz in your hair?” Lucifer laughed. 

“I can’t say I do.” Sam didn’t realize that he’d shuffled closer to the blonde until their elbows bumped. The king didn’t comment on that. “Who was it? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Lucifer breathed a heavy sigh. It was like a dark cloud of sadness washed over his body all at once. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Sam whispered quickly. 

The blonde shrugged. “It’s not important, anyway.” He traced a pattern on the stone railing with his fingertip. 

Sam wanted to console him, but he wasn’t sure exactly how Lucifer wanted to be comforted. The taller man put his arm around the blonde and rested his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. 

Lucifer looked at Sam, his face unreadable in its confusion. “What, uh, whatcha doin’ there?”

“Trying to be comforting.” Sam offered. “Is it working?”

Lucifer chuckled. “No, not really, but your effort is appreciated.”

Sam didn’t move his arm, partly because he wasn’t sure what else to do, and partly because it was oddly satisfying to be touching the Milton king. 

Lucifer looked down at the railing. “We better not be about to kiss. I just might puke.”

“You’re supposed to kiss your husband, dork.” Sam teased. 

Lucifer made a face. “There’s nobody else out here. You don’t have to pretend to like me right now.”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, you don’t seem like too bad of a guy.”

Lucifer laughed hollowly. “Not yet.”

Sam sighed. “There’s not too much that a person can do to put them past saving.”

~*~

“If I have to hear Gabriel make one more dirty joke today, I’m going to cut off his head.” Lucifer swore, leading his new husband through the hallways. 

Like Castiel said after the ceremony, Gabriel’s lewdness was never ending. The brunette menace managed to work an innuendo into every conversation on a normal day, nevermind his big brother’s wedding day. 

Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest, and his face felt hot. He never got performance anxiety, yet he was nervous about sleeping with Sam Winchester. _Winchester-Milton,_ the angel in his blood reminded him. 

“It’s probably not in your best interest to kill him.” Sam pointed out. “Where else would you dispose of excess alcohol?”

“What if I skipped the middleman and dumped it straight in the garden? That’s where he always ends up puking, anyway.” Lucifer found the door to his room, the hand not holding Sam’s shaking. He pushed open the latch. “This is us.”

Lucifer’s bedroom was dark, despite the warm fire crackling in the hearth. A king sized four poster bed laid to the left of the door, with ashen-silver sheets tucked beneath a green, pale blue, and golden patchwork quilt. The quilt was made with painstaking care by his mother, her last needlework project before her death. He treasured it dearly, holding it close to his heart on the nights when his loneliness ate at his stomach the most vicious. 

The headboard was a rich cherry wood, the grain smooth and soothing. Above the headboard, hand sketched pictures of landscapes and carefully labeled diagrams of flowers were tacked to the wall. Two cherry red nightstands stood guard on each side of the bed. The one to the left of the bed had a quill rest and a pot of ink on the surface. Lucifer frowned when he realized he’d spilled a few drops of the dark ink on his nightstand when he’d written his letter earlier. 

This was his bedroom, a place he’d only brought his brothers, his mother, and… he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He couldn’t think about anything but Sam right now. 

Sam shut the door behind them, the click jarring Lucifer into action. He let go of the brunette’s hand and stripped his jacket off his shoulders. Dean’s letter crinkled in the pocket. The king’s fingers itched to pull it out and read it. He could hardly let his mind think of other things; the letter occupied a small corner of his thoughts, and had since Tessa gave it to him. Instead of reading the correspondence he so desperately wanted, Lucifer hung his jacket on a dark iron coat rack. 

“So, uh, make yourself at home, I guess.” Lucifer shrugged. “Left side of the bed is mine in case, ah, that matters.” His nerves were clear in his shaking voice. When did _Lucifer Milton_ get performance anxiety? Sex was the one thing he was good at! 

This was ridiculous, and yet, Lucifer was 15 all over again, with one of Dean Winchester’s hands over his mouth and the other down the front of Lucifer’s pants. 

God, Lucifer missed him. He turned to look at Sam, and on a brief second of eye contact, he almost confused the green irises he connected with. Sam, Dean, hell, even Abby… they all could’ve been the same. 

Lucifer needed those eyes, even if they belonged to the wrong person. _Green. Like the forest._

Like Dean Winchester’s lies.


End file.
